


Your Kiss Is Like The Bittersweet Embrace Of Death

by sonyathefairy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Writer!Phil, painter!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 16:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonyathefairy/pseuds/sonyathefairy
Summary: Dan used to paint and Phil used to write.Together, they make an intriguing work of art.Alone, they're two lost souls trying to find their way back on track.





	Your Kiss Is Like The Bittersweet Embrace Of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look!A phanfic!Hope you like it!  
> Maybe check out [my tumblr](http://sonyathefairy.tumblr.com), if you wanna, if ya want.

The sun filtering through the curtains and into the room left a rainbow behind.The smoke from his cigarette was slowly intoxicating the air in the room.The clustered mess that was his apartment hadn’t seen cleaning products in months.Paint was splattered everywhere and the unfinished paintings that lined the walls were seemingly mocking him.He lost his will to paint a long time ago, but he kept his art as a cruel reminder of a previous life.Art galleries and praising words.Pleasant after-parties and classical music.Oh, what a wonderful life artists must have, right?Wrong.No one tells you about the sudden losses of inspiration, the late nights, the upcoming depression or the alcohol that you pour down your throat in a shallow attempt to feel something, anything really.

Dan was one of the unfortunate souls who got a taste of the good life, got addicted and then remained with the bitter taste of the aftermath.The bad days stretched longer and longer, a never-ending mess that so clearly represented his life.His thoughts became darker and darker, so he just found bad habit after bad habit to drown them along with his demons.

”What a misunderstood artist I am”, he thinks sarcastically.”There’s nothing complicated about my situation.Even a five-year-old could understand, and yet here I am moping around like it’s the end of the world.”

He got up before he could go any deeper in thought.The only thing that kept him alive and in this fancy apartment were his parents’ money, so he didn’t bother to get a job after his art had failed him.He decided to go get a coffee so he shrugged on a coat and put on some shoes and left.He was greeted by the chilly winter air and the slow rustling of leaves.The town was empty that day, but then again, it has always been empty.

The small coffee shop down the corner was closed, so he decided to go take a walk on the beach.He didn’t expect anyone to be there, but when has he ever been right, anyways?On the far end of the beach, with his feet in the water, stood a tall, lanky figure with black hair, head tilted back, looking at the cloudy sky.It was strange, seeing someone else in his usual spot.Well, Dan wasn’t as crazy as this guy to soak his feet in 10 degree weather.The figure somehow sensed his presence because he turned a curious glance at Dan.He raised his eyebrows in a silent question, but seemed amused nonetheless.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be here.What are you doing here anyways?” Dan asked.

“Enjoying the view.” the man replied, unencumbered by him.

“No one comes here to just enjoy the view.People usually come here this time of year if they want to die by freezing to death.”

“Well, then I guess I could ask you the same question.”

“I was taking a walk when I saw you, and I got intrigued.”

“Oh, am I really that interesting?” 

Dan blushed.”What is wrong with me?I need to get a grip of things.” he thought.

“I guess I was just curious to see who was crazy enough to soak their feet in the middle of winter.”

The man laughed, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m Phil, by the way." he finally said

"Dan.And you still haven’t answered my question: Why are you here?”

“Habit.I come here when I have author’s block.”

He’s an author, that explains a lot.Of course the only person on this beach would be another artist of sorts.Phil started humming a familiar tune, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.He decided to leave it, and him, and head home.He shouldn’t disturb his peace and quiet any longer.As he started to turn around, he felt a hand on his forearm, keeping him in place.

“Stay a little longer, will you?It’s quite lonely here."Phil says monotonously, like the rest of his speech.”How interesting” ,Dan thinks, “I found someone seemingly like myself.This can only end in flames, but I’ll take it”.And so, he stayed.And they talked.And Dan lit up cigarette after cigarette, trying to numb the cold.

Eventually, they headed back to their houses, content that they met each other and with the promise to meet each other again on their tongues.

 

Phil used to be a successful writer.Or, as the press described him,”The epitome of modern literature”.But that was before his breakdown.Before he swore to never write ever again.He threw everything away, he moved to a small beach town and just enjoyed the view.The answer he gave the strange man was true, he really was just enjoying the ocean and its wonders.He liked to put his feet in the icy water, because maybe then he’d feel something.Despite what others believed, he didn’t pick any bad habits, well if willingly catching pneumonia didn’t count.  
His small apartment was tidy, mainly because he was almost never there, but also because he needed at least his home to be in order if his life just refused to be that way.

“Dan…” The name rolled easily off his tongue.There’s something familiar about the boy with stained fingers and brown eyes.His smoke, his attire…an artist maybe.Phil rolled restlessly in his bed.He wanted to see the stars.He wanted to feel the ocean licking his toes.He wanted to smell the smoke of Dan’s cigarettes.

In a failed attempt to feel better he went to pour himself a glass of water.Somehow, ever since he met the strange boy, he couldn’t stop thinking about him.His mind just wandered in that direction with no further indications.Maybe he was a fool.Maybe Dan was thinking about him as well.Only one way to find out.

He went for a walk, not a destination in sight.He let his thoughts run wild along with his feet, and unsurprisingly finds himself on the beach.A fragile ghost is lingering in the shadows, like the fog embracing the lonely lighthouse.

“Apparently, you’re crazy enough to be here at night as well.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of Phil’s mouth,slow and unsure.

“I am a creature of habit, after all.”

“You write beautifully, you know?The inside of your mind must be a horrible place.”

“He found my writing, how bizarre”, Phil thought, “I don’t remember telling him my full name, or that I’m a writer.Another mistery on top of the others that I’ll probably never solve.But he’s right.The inside of my mind is indeed a horrible place.”

Phil didn’t know what to respond, so he hummed in approval.

“And you’re an artist.” He muttered just for himself, but Dan heard him anyway.

“Indeed.But I lost my will to paint a long time ago.We’re very much alike, you and me, rejects of society ,once praised, now forgotten.How sad.”He sounds like a mad man, but somehow, Phil was still intrigued, even more so than before.  
Dan’s dark humour and witty comments kept him company the rest of the night, in Dan’s apartment, which oh so perfectly represented his personality and contrasted Phil’s.

 

Conversation between the two lost souls came easily.They indulged each other’s demons, and they fell in love with them.  
The months passed ,and slowly, their passions come back to life.Dan paints the sea, with two lonely ghosts intertwining their shadows on the sand.He calls it: ”Ghosts Can Fall in Love as Well”.Phil writes about two lost souls, finding each other in another life.He calls it: ”Nothing Burns Like The Cold”.

Dan says that the slight allusion to Phil’s bad habit isn’t funny, but Phil likes it.

One night, Dan kisses Phil, and it’s like all the colours come crashing together.

“Your kiss is like the bittersweet embrace of death.”Phil says.

“Shut up, you poetic little-“ his remark is cut off when Phil kisses him back.

“Looks like we got our ‘Happily ever after’”.Phil laughs.

“Yeah, yeah we did…” And Dan couldn’t be happier.


End file.
